EVE®: Templar One (7 page)

•
The isogen-5 stockpiles were entangled—either the detonators or the material itself.
No other explanation can account for simultaneous events across multiple star systems.

•
The purpose of the stockpile was to draw an energy yield from the sun that isogen-5 by itself could not reach to achieve some kind of critical mass.
The Terrans had the means to transport the material anywhere they wished.
There is no discernable reason why they would need a structure so large and close to the star, except for the explicit purpose of amassing concentrations large enough to interact with the star.

•
The energy expenditure was intended to be destructive.
The lack of Terran structures anywhere else in the system, in addition to their placement in environmentally hostile locations near Class-O stars, suggests that they were built with the intent to eventually destroy them.

•
It is probable that the Terrans were constructing an interstellar transit system similar to but much more advanced than our own stargate transit system.
The postevent gravitonic residue, isogen-5 properties, placement near massive objects like Class-O stars, resulting topological point defects, and consistent presence of Sleeper colonies in w-space suggest that the Terrans already had jump technology but were attempting to harness natural forces to achieve a similar result.

•
The transit system was either incomplete when the event occurred or was detonated incorrectly, or we do not yet understand how to use it.
What appears to empyreans as random wormhole activity may in fact follow a pattern, but no such analysis has been attempted.

The New Eden’s leading authority on Sleepers was Dr.
Marcus Jror, former chief scientist to Amarrian Holder Falek Grange.
His whereabouts are currently unknown.
He has been designated a Tier-1 surveillance target for THANATOS, pending acquisition of any information that could lead to his discovery.

>>END 13A0B

9

GEMINATE REGION—F-ZNNG CONSTELLATION

SYSTEM UBX-CC—THE MJOLNIR NEBULA

INSORUM PRODUCTION FACTORY

Mila’s hands moved with the precise control of a surgeon, delicately placing a microservo the size of a grain of sand into position.
The circuitry beneath the patient’s thorax was fully exposed, an anatomical maze of wires, chips, and synthetic muscle fibers bathed in the glow of overhead operating lights.
Behind her mask, she allowed herself to breathe only when the component clicked ever so slightly into place.
The margin of error was little more than a hair’s breadth; the slightest change in the angle of the tools at her fingertips would undo a painstaking effort that had required hours of focused concentration.

“A brilliant performance,”
the drone patient commended.
“You have the skills of a machine, albeit a slow one.”

She accepted the smug directness of her AI companion as a compliment.
It had been three years and counting since her last physical interaction with a human being.

A large insectlike drone with a triangular-shaped head and large dark eyes on each side emerged from the shadows and offered the thorax plate cover for the patient.
Smaller drones clinging to walls and ceilings looked on with curiosity that seemed eerily genuine.

“You can finish up,” Mila said, setting the tools down.
The sadness in her voice was apparent, and several drones began nudging against her legs like sympathetic pets.
Every mechanical creature in the factory was part of the same collective AI.
Though they each differed in appearance and function, they all responded to the same name: VILAMO, who was programmed to protect her at all times.
Mila developed a friendship with them, and together they sought to learn all they could about the cruel universe she left behind.

The insect drone affixed the thorax plating in seconds.
When the patient lifted itself off the gurney, all the drones suddenly turned toward the door, their multifaceted eyes changing from a greenish blue hue to deep red.

Mila tensed up.

“An unregistered Wolf-class frigate just emerged from warp outside the perimeter,”
VILAMO announced.
“The ship has been immobilized.”

“Who’s the pilot?”
Mila breathed.

“IDENT scans indicate that he is the Ishukone CEO Mens Reppola.”

Mila felt an emotional surge flush her cheeks.
The antennae of a smaller drone swiveled in her direction, registering the sudden change in her biorhythm.

“We cannot verify unless we take him into quarantine,”
VILAMO cautioned.
“Shall we proceed?”

“
Yes,
” Mila exclaimed, trying to calm herself.
“God, yes!”

“Careful,”
VILAMO warned.
“Our foe wears many disguises.”

*   *   *

IT WAS A HELLISH PLACE
to find an old friend.

Searing hot gusts of stellar dust and gas pummeled Mens’s ship as it was approached by tentacled drones the size of battleships, seemingly impervious to the turbulence of the Mjolnir Nebula.
The facility had changed significantly since Mens brought Mila Gariushi here years ago; the structures had not only grown but evolved into distinctly organic shapes.
As his ship was embraced and hauled into something that resembled an insect hive, Mens noticed gill-like serrations on its metallic surface that moved and undulated with the chaotic current.
VILAMO appeared to be harnessing the energy of the nebula itself, using its adaptive intelligence to find a way to thrive in this hostile environment.

But hospitality to strangers wasn’t one of the AI’s strengths.

Once Mens was removed from his pod, a pair of menacing spider drones, each bearing pincers as long as a man’s arm, gathered his carcass off the grating as he retched containment fluid from his lungs.
They warned him that blood was going to be drawn for genetic analysis, with or without his consent.

Fortunately for Mens, he passed their test.

The last time he saw Mila in person was in the harrowing moments following the death of her brother.
It had been Otro’s final wish that Mens rush her to this forsaken sanctuary, which he and his good friend Ralirashi Okimo had built in complete secrecy.
As the senior officers of Ishukone, they had made many enemies over the years.
The construction was prescient of them, for now it was sheltering Mila from both the Broker and Tibus Heth.
These two were responsible for Otro’s murder, plus hundreds of thousands more in one of the worst atrocities in history.

Where, exactly, Otro had acquired the technology to build it all remained a mystery.
Eerily similar to rogue drones, these machines could assess, learn, and adapt to all conditions necessary to serve their primary purpose.
From this hidden lair, Mila was able to follow the events of the past three years from afar and to search for ways to track down her brother’s killer.
Despite her isolation and absence from the spotlight, there was little that Mila didn’t know about Caldari affairs—especially about the mega-corporations.

She never stopped grieving for Otro.
But her pain had given way to a cold, ruthless determination to set things right in Ishukone.
This was a rare instance—personal revenge and the greater good aligning.
Vengeance was not just for her but for the entire Caldari State.

Mila stared at her trusted, beloved friend with whom she shared countless memories.
They—Otro, Rali, Mens, and a select few others from their inner circle—were a family in all but name.
Their bond was unbreakable.
Besides Rali, no one understood her better than Mens Reppola.

It was overwhelmingly good to see him again.

“I could kill you for coming here,” she started.

Mens nearly smiled.

“This was the only way,” he said.
“We took the necessary precautions.”

“Did Rali approve of this?”

Mens gave her a thoughtful look.

“He never said one way or the other.”

Mila had dimmed the room before he arrived.
She couldn’t be certain of how she would react to seeing someone—anyone—after such prolonged solitude.

Let alone him.

She was hopeful at first, then apprehensive, that the answer to her next question was what her irrational heart wanted to hear.

“Why have you come here?”

Mens reminded himself that several hundred million Ishukone civilians were counting on his honesty.

So, for that matter, was his family.

“I’m stepping down,” he said, with more conviction than he truly felt.
“I came here to tell you in person.”

Silence prevailed.
Spider drones gathered at the door behind him, and the smaller specimens huddled beside her.

The sadness on her face crushed him.

“Have you told this to anyone else?”
she finally asked.

Mens shook his head.

“Ishukone is destroying me,” he stammered.
“Your brother was a much stronger man than I.”

She forced herself to smile.

“He would disagree with that.”

“I’ve prepared a list of possible successors,” Mens continued, eyes glassing over with pain.
“Rali will assume executive command until you present your recommendation to the board.”

He took a deep breath, and hung his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Mila told herself to focus.

“I know Heth threatened your family,” she started.
“He’s a coward.
He recognizes that you’re a danger to him.”

“Look at me,” Mens said, regaining his composure.
“Do I look dangerous to you?”

“You’ve always been hard on yourself,” she said.
“I won’t bother telling you how much Ishukone needs you, or how much respect you’ve earned among your peers and the people you lead.
So you tell me … what can I do to convince you to stay with us?”

He gave her an incredulous look, as if she should know the answer already.

“
Help me
run Ishukone,” he said.

“You know I can’t do that,” she answered.
“Not yet.”

“We can’t run from the Broker forever,” Mens said, remembering the exchange with his wife.
“At some point we have to take a stand!”

“Forever is exactly what he has that you and I don’t,” Mila answered.
“Until we know for certain what’s become of him, this is the way things have to be.”

Mens exhaled forcefully.

“Heth has unchallenged support,” he said.
“It’s just a matter of time before all the cards fall.”

It was true.
Clever politics had turned the other mega-corporations against Ishukone, isolating them from the spoils of war and the resultant economic windfall.
Mens fought bitterly to keep Ishukone out of a conflict that his predecessor would never have endorsed.
What he never counted on was the Caldari State faring so well in the fight.
Entire systems had been taken from the Federation; their armed forces were among the most feared in New Eden; and Caldari flags still flew over the ancestral homeworld of their origin.
Even those who had opposed the war from the beginning could no longer argue that it was costly.
In fact, the Caldari State had profited handsomely from it.

Tibus Heth remembered exactly who had and who hadn’t offered their support, back when the outcome was less certain.

Ishukone was now the unpatriotic, undeserving, uninspiring example of “restrained” Caldari politics that the State could do without—a 180-degree turnaround from years earlier, when it was Ishukone setting the example for everyone else.
Otro Gariushi died trying to prevent a war he believed would be the State’s undoing.
Instead, it had become a shining example of how unrealized the State’s potential really was.

The mega-corporations smelled blood.
Ishukone still owned considerable assets and territory that would hold its value no matter who took possession of them.
Mens Reppola was out of Heth’s circle, and it was just a matter of time before the dogs attacked.

“Mila,” he said.
“We’re
that
close to losing everything.
You’re better at this game than I am.
The CEOs would listen to you—”

“I can’t return,” she answered forcefully.
“Until I learn how to destroy him, this is where I hold the line.”

Mens deflated.

“I’ve given Ishukone
everything,
” he said.
“They’re going after my family now, and I can’t do a goddamn thing about it
without your help
!”

In a rapid unison of metallic clicks, the two spider drones advanced to within a meter of where he was sitting before the echo of his shout subsided.
But he was unfazed: This was passion he could no longer repress.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he said.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“There is another way,” Mila said quietly.
A moment of clarity struck, as her mind sought solutions to the impossible.
“It’s so risky that I’d almost rather not share what it is.”

“What risk is greater than doing nothing?”
he asked.

“Mens,” she said softly.
“These are the highest stakes in the game.
If you go down this path and fall, no one can help you.”

“We’ve taken big risks before,” Mens replied.
“And I’m almost out of things to lose.”

Mila took a deep breath before saying a name:

“Oiritsuu.”

Mens frowned.

“
Haatakan
Oiritsuu?”
he asked.
“The ex-Kaalakiota CEO?
She’s practically Heth’s pet—”

“That’s only what the cluster thinks of her.
I
know
this woman.
Otro and I once considered her the most dangerous person in New Eden.
Heth was right to go after her first, but he should’ve killed her instead.
He thinks he can keep her on a leash while exploiting her intellect.
Nothing
that woman does is an accident.
Trust me.
If the media says she’s willingly orchestrating deals on Heth’s behalf, you can be certain they benefit her personal agenda in ways no else but her can know.”